Author Archives: Roger Wright

It was back when we all had plenty of time. A late night call. I was up. Scribbling something unmemorable in a spiral notebook under the circular pool of light cast by a metal gooseneck lamp. The caller ID said … Continue reading →

The baby from the train that fell from the sky. The story swirls and entwines with the paths of our three stars. You, me and the child, Annie Beth Morningstar. We couldn’t give her much, but we gave her that … Continue reading →

Derek lost his room around the time the virus started seeping into Chicago. Now Derek stays on the street full time. Two squares of concrete in front of the crystal shop on Michigan Avenue. A street that used to be … Continue reading →

When I hear “don’t be scared of the Corona virus,” it calls to mind my sister Wendy and I, sitting in the dark when we were around eight and ten, watching the movie Whatever Happened to Baby Jane. We were terrified. And … Continue reading →

I’m young, on a bare stage with two chairs, a woman named Tina, and somebody in the darkness beyond the spotlight shouts out, “A monkey. A pirate’s treasure map. And a diamond!” And right then, that millisecond, is when Tina … Continue reading →

Gray foggy, damp and weirdly warm in Chicago this morning. Christmas coming. The rushing of lesser angels stops cold for a stolen moment and you start missing past times and people you can see, text, email or call up on … Continue reading →